I also spoke to the resident nurse who deals with medical matters, about donating Grace’s brain for research purposes. She was very kind and understanding, explaining that because Grace has early-age dementia, her brain would be valuable for research. My only question, and as horrible as it is, was whether after her brain is removed, she can be best laid in an open coffin, and no one would notice. The doctor believed this to be the case, though we agreed it was worth me checking with the Hersenbank organization. The nurse explained that they normally take a brain to Amsterdam within 2 hours of being pronounced dead, then return the person to the funeral directors. After the call, I completed the forms and sent them to the doctor for her to complete. What I liked was that if I so wished, they would keep me up to date on what happens when they investigate the brain. In the forms, I was asked to provide some insight into Grace’s medical history and explain about the fall in 2018, but otherwise, she was a very healthy person.
I am struggling today, feeling sad and angry, which, considering what has happened today. I am realizing how much strength is required to cope with all of this. Unlike a situation where someone dies within a short period, post-prognosis, this is a dreadful ongoing journey. At this point, I need to pause.
The Return of the Blood Meter and an Irritated Receptionist
When I returned the Blood Pressure meter at midday, the receptionist at the clinic was irritated with me. She said, ‘I thought you were meant to return this at 0830’. Oh well, I had a busy morning. All I said was, ‘well, it kept taking measurements’.
Grace is struggling!
Then it was off to see Grace. She was being fed again by M, one of the more senior (and also a fantastic) nurses. Poor Grace was struggling and looked lost in her eyes. I was upset today; I hate seeing Grace suffer and was in tears while writing this diary entry. I wish I could swap with her sometimes, anything to take the pain away from her and bring back the old Grace.
